Fallout from the war
by Ru
Summary: The reasons for the Goblin Civil War soon become shockingly obvious. So Jareth takes off to the Aboveground. A Harry Potter/Labyrinth crossover.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Not mine and all that_

_I'm followed a very good suggestion to spread the story into smaller chapters, so there should be a few more chapters coming in a couple of hours after i have a bit of a play with them:) _

_There will be really new chapters that will come tomorrow sometime and are already written, so don't be disappointed -i'm not just doing a re-write. _

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Chapter 1

Jareth extended the meeting as long as he dared get away with, but eventually even he had to let his councillors leave. They were all casting concerned looks as they left, though he pretended not to notice. Jareth was not known for making meetings longer than they were needed, especially ones involving paperwork. He had his reasons though.

He wasn't certain, though he was fairly sure, that someone had been following him, watching him. He wasn't one to jump at shadows and in truth there were few places he could go where he wasn't followed and stared at by someone. This felt different though, intrusive and unfamiliar.

He wanted to tell the council, wanted to alert his security, but he could just be paranoid and he knew his people's feelings towards him, so he refused to go to them for help unless he had solid proof of his suspicions.

At the same time, Jareth was also distinctly unenthusiastic about being alone, hence the overly extended meeting.

Jareth left the meeting quietly and paused under a large oak tree, looking for someone or something, anything suspicious. He frowned as he saw a slight shimmer of magic ahead of him, he squinted at it as he ducked down slightly. It turned out to be someone's clock hanging on a fence, obviously an expensive one for it was embedded with multiple spells for warmth and safety. Jareth frowned at himself, he was being completely ridiculous.

It was at this point that the, newly promoted, weapons master nearly tripped over him. Jareth had just enough self control not to blush at being found in such an undignified position.

"My apologies Sire," Sir Hugh said, knowing better than to enquire about the nature of the King's business.

Jareth stood, brushing his clothes off as he did so. Almost instantly a bullet thudded into the tree close to Jareth's head. Jareth froze, staring at Sir Hugh with surprise, his weapons master, highly trained, immediately threw them both to the ground, covering his King with his own body.

Hugh was speaking into his earpiece yelling for backup, though it was unnecessary as everyone in the vicinity could hear the gun shots. He continued to hold Jareth below him until the area was fully secure, regardless that his King was fighting him, fighting to get back up. He was a Knight of the Labyrinth and furthermore the Weapons master, the protection of the King was his primary duty, regardless, or in spite of, Jareth's wishes. Eventually once it became clear that the assassin had departed, Hugh had his men escort the King back to the main council building, while Hugh started organising a man-hunt.

Several hours later and there was little trace of the assassin, though the search was still ongoing. The council had immediately got to work, the head councillor Fenrook almost immediately giving a press release, before the rumours got to out of hand.

It was late afternoon when the King met his council again, though this time soldiers of all shapes and sizes lined the walls.

"I don't know anything, I didn't recognise him," Jareth nearly growled, perilously close to whining. They'd been gently interrogating him for awhile now.

Sir Hugh had been growing more suspicious as the afternoon wore on, he should have known something was wrong since he had been forced to sit in an interminable meeting this morning. It was now obvious that King Jareth had been keeping things from them, had not only recognised the assassin, but had fought Hugh to get up, had stupidly almost run towards the shooter.

He wasn't a fan of the King's, in truth there were few who were. But he had never felt until this moment that the King had picked up on this, would sacrifice his safety rather than trust in Hugh and his men.

The rest of the council knew he was hiding something too; Jareth had been too shaken by the attempted assassination to present much of a front to a twelve-strong council, trained to look for any hint of deception. They didn't know why, but the growing assumption was that Jareth must be at fault, that the aggressor had a valid grievance against their King that Jareth didn't want to admit too.

Jareth saw their growing disdain, their assumptions and immediately knew he'd been right not to trust them, been right to hide the truth. He couldn't trust them, never could. They proved it once and how many times must he be taught a lesson such as that before it sunk in? He quickly sank back into his usual manner around them, sneering at their assumptions. Nothing had changed, he'd been a fool for the brief amount of trust he had shown them and yet, in that moment he'd instinctively felt safe.

Sir Kingston, head of foreign policy, watched in amazement as the atmosphere shifted and solidified against Jareth. He himself had always been one of Jareth's main detractors, but the King was still the King and he was withdrawing from them all, keeping his secrets close. This was not the time for accusations. Jareth had been ready to tell them what was going on till this point. Sir Kingston could hardly blame his withdrawal; this was not an atmosphere conducive for the revealing of confidences.

The King of the Goblins had very few supporters in truth and he knew it, it had been different once, before the war, though he was the only one left who remembered. But since then his hopes and dreams had remained secret kept under lock and key from those who thought him evil and absurd. He'd let them make what they would of him, had almost gloated at their misunderstandings. But things just got worse and the rift between King and subjects had grown ever greater. They'd thought him evil and he'd done his best to live up to their expectations, had in truth hated them more than they hated him.

They'd left him to be tortured once, left him alone with a crazy woman. He'd believed in them for months, expected rescue. He'd never received it.

Instead, in his absence, the goblins had gone to civil war. Forgotten him like he was nothing and he still hated them for it. He still wore the scars, had to wear gloves to hide them.

This time was the same, no one had asked, no one had enquired. So Jareth had continued bleeding. They didn't care; they'd proved it today, and in the past. If he trusted them, if he told them... and anyway it wasn't until he stood up that the pain from blood loss really penetrated and he finally let loose a soft gasp of pain.

There was silence from the council, they'd all heard it. The pained gasp resonated across the room, those with goblin blood felt it in their bones and even the non-goblins fell to silence and stared. Frozen with surprise the council stared at Jareth in shock. Fenrook, the head of the council was the first to react, an awful suspicion entering his mind.

"Sire?" he questioned. Protocol was forgotten as he moved across the room. Jareth stared at him in silence, cool eyes hiding everything even now.

Fenrook pulled away the long grey coat to reveal what he suspected, Jareth was bleeding, had been shot.

Jareth blinked, too shocked to react to the unexpected accusation. He looked down at the wound.

"It's just a flesh wound" he stated. The council leader stared in amazement, speechless for the first time.

"A flesh wound?" Fenrook repeated. Snapping out of his shock

"Someone get a healer. Now!" he ordered "Sit down!" he snapped at the King. Stunned and feeling distinctly unwell Jareth obliged, not protesting as his coat was removed and a firm goblin hand tore his favourite shirt to shreds. Within minutes a healer had arrived and taken over.

"You need to drink this, it should help with the light headedness" the doctor said. Jareth looked in disgust at the drink he was given. It smelled awful.

"Drink it!" ordered Fenrook angrily. Jareth glanced up at the anger, unsure for its reason, his own anger building up in answer. The concern he saw in the councillors eyes shamed him though, so for once he surrendered.

"It's just a flesh wound" he repeated as the doctors rough hands gently washed the wound, uncomfortable to be stared at so intently by his council. The drink was helping, but even so, for a moment he let down his guard, leaned back on his chair and rested his head wearily. Shock was finally setting in and the coldness of the room caused him to shiver. Foreign magic touched him, and he opened his eyes to watch as the doctor tried to close the wound.

"What is that?" Jareth said as the doctor then pulled out a green paste.

"Ash root and dandelion, it should minimise any scarring," replied the doctor absently. Jareth blinked slowly, it took a second for the sentence to process his sluggish thoughts.

"I'm allergic to dandelion" Jareth managed. Watching as the paste was spread across the wound.

Jareth's soft statement caught the doctor by surprise and sure enough, within moments the King was struggling to breathe.

Within seconds Jareth could feel it affects, his throat closed up, he could barely breathe. Adrenalin surged up and he panicked, pushing away hands that were holding him down, holding him still. He felt a prick on his arm as he struggled to breathe, there was a soft voice in his ear calming him, instructing him and for once he listened.

"Talk to him, calm him down" ordered the doctor to Fenrook, searching his bag desperately for what was needed. It was a struggle to hold Jareth still long enough to inject an antidote, but within moments the King was breathing almost normally again though sweating as if he had been running.

Shockingly Jareth actually smiled at them "Bloody doctors," he grimaced; the adrenalin was wearing off and shock setting in no doubt. The doctor stared at him catching his breath, the whole room stared, for shock was not just setting in with Jareth. A different doctor and Jareth could have died, an allergy to dandelion was rare, there were not many doctors in the city who would know what to do and have the required antidote on hand.

"Why have I never been told this?" the doctor said angrily to Fenrook, who was still standing next to the King, still holding his shoulder. Fenrook shook his head helplessly

"I was not aware of it," he replied glancing down at his King, who he was beginning to realise that he knew almost nothing about. He should remove his hand he thought absently and yet he did not yet wish to break contact, he'd never even touched the King before, he thought dimly, and yet he's thought himself an expert on the man.

The doctor was furious, medical records on Labyrinth citizens were held in the healer's consortium, available to all licensed doctors at any moment with just a thought. They updated themselves magically. Every citizen but one it seemed.

Jareth stood, needing to move to get rid of the energy created by his panic. And the council got yet another shock. Bare-chested he turned, surprised at the gasps behind him, until he remembered, the scars were showing. Humiliated he turned to face the rest of the room, hiding them from sight.

The doctor came up behind him, and forgetting both himself and Jareth's position he traced the scars gently. He'd never seen anything like it, never seen a victim of torture before and this was clearly what the King was. The scars were old, and had clearly never been treated, not if they were looking like this.

"What happened to you?" he asked gently. Jareth snorted moving away "They did," he replied nodding towards the council staring at him. At the doctors horrified stare he elaborated

"A souvenir from the war," At their blank looks he continued "The Goblin war" he prompted.

"Goblins did that?" Sir Kingston said unbelieving. Surely no goblin would ever betray the blood-link between the Goblin Nation. Outsiders couldn't possibly understand the ties between the King and his people, but anyone with goblin blood owed fealty to their King, would protect him instinctively. There was no older or deeper magic than those bonds and it was unthinkable that someone had broken them.

Jareth ignored the question; he'd been shot, had an allergic reaction and now was left feeling humiliated and weak in front of his own council. It had not been a good day, and he still felt light headed and ill. To make things worse he could feel a headache building up between his eyes and he was being bombarded by shock and fear from his Labyrinth that would need attending to. He rubbed his eyes as thunder cracked overhead somewhere in sympathy.

The doctor herded him back to his seat quickly and efficiently and Jareth, tired and ill, obeyed his directions. That he was reaching the limit of his endurance was clear to them all. The doctor set back to work removing all traces of the green paste and washing the wound again, it was just a flesh wound and the magic was healing it well even without the paste. Even so he used a substitution potion, clearly the last thing Jareth needed was more scars.

"Are you done yet? I want to go home" Jareth asked tiredly.

"You'll need a guard," Sir Hugh answered gently "There's still an assassin out there somewhere"

Jareth flinched and pursed his lips; he only knew one man who would use a muggle weapon against him and be able to hide murderous intentions from Jareth's labyrinth.

"He's gone," he answered softly "It was just a reminder"

"A reminder of what?" asked Fenrook sharply, his anger building as Jareth simply shook his head.

"Sire," Fenrook insisted. He was the council head and had every right to know about threats to the crown and he was getting tired of feeling completely in the dark. But Jareth had had enough too.

"I'll handle it" he insisted, standing again he pushed away the doctor's hands "Thank you for your assistance Doctor..." he paused unsure

"Ben Davidson, Head of the Healer's guild Sire" the doctor answered.

"Then I'm honoured by your personal attention" Jareth added with a polite formal smile. He wasn't sure he could stretch to put his coat on, so he draped it over his shoulders and headed for the door. He was very sure he couldn't get back to the castle in owl form as was his usual practice, or that he even had enough energy to move himself magically, so he cheated. He didn't normally do this, especially not where others could see, it was an advantage he liked to keep to himself, but he was so tired now. So he asked the Labyrinth for a favour and the door opened not to the courtyard but to his own quarters at the castle and he'd slipped out and gone by the time anyone could react.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jareth slept long and deep that night, tired from the days events, so he didn't hear the muffled shots and remained ignorant of the bodies of his guards, now lying slumped outside his quarters.

He finally awoke to the shaking of the bed when a pair of booted feet landed on his covers. A very familiar man was sat on his footboard, with a gun pointed directly at Jareth

"Hello little brother" he smiled sweetly.

There had been no one to interfere this time, even his brothers Labyrinth was unaware of his presence. Even so he'd thought it would be a lot harder to gain entrance to the castles inner sanctum than it actually had been, he'd got no suspicious looks at all. Seemed his little brother was no longer guarded as he once was. He'd worked years to get to this point, to loosen the bonds between his brother and the goblins; he'd obviously timed his visit well.

He could have killed him last time, but had chosen to let him escape to have to live without the total trust he'd once had in his subjects. He'd wanted Jareth to understand what it was like not to be loved, to suffer as he himself had suffered. Jareth had to understand how it felt to be alone, to struggle. His little brother had everything that should have been his, and he was going to pay for it in blood.

Jareth froze "Donald," he answered.

He hurt all over from yesterday's events, and he was not prepared for this meeting. He'd known, but he'd not truly believed, that his brother hated him and was trying to kill him. His Labyrinth tugged on their link, nervous about the emotions it could sense. He quieted it and instinctively denied that there was a problem, for the first time since he could remember he lied to his land and blocked the link, asking for privacy. The Labyrinth accepted his word and backed off. Donald was his brother, his responsibility.

"I thought you were dead," Jareth said. "Why did you shoot me?"

"It's time," Donald replied. "Put these on" he threw some handcuffs on the bed, "these were especially commissioned, just for you. A metal alloy bound with so many inhibitors you won't be able to use any of that magic you're so proud of," he sneered "And guess what little brother? They were made by your own metal smiths. Goblins do the best work after all!"

Jareth put them on as instructed; his brother had made a huge tactical mistake if he thought that something with goblin magic could be used against Jareth. If he thought that a mere muggle weapon could be enough to take down the Goblin King, he had clearly learnt nothing about Jareth's ties to the land or his ties to his people. The Goblin King only needed to pull the magic a certain way before goblins would come running and nothing could stand in the way of a determined goblin horde. Nevermind what the Labyrinth itself could do if summoned to defend.

But once again Jareth pulled back from the links, refrained from calling anyone. The handcuffs clicked together and Jareth was tied, for the first time he felt uneasy, they didn't feel goblin made at all. He reached out to the Labyrinth, but there was nothing, he started to panic called in earnest, called upon the goblins. But he felt nothing, his ties to both his land and people felt muted and he couldn't grasp them.

His brother laughed an ugly sound. "My mistake, I meant dwarves, yep it was definitely dwarves that made them. Your arrogance seems limitless brother. You truly think I don't know how you think, how you react. That you yourself would push away your only help, because of arrogance, well it's too late brother."

"What do you want?" Jareth said resignedly.

"I want everything little brother, I want the throne, and I want the power. Look at you, you're pathetic, you can't even defend yourself against one man and yet you were given everything. You could have ruled the entire underground if you chose too, hell you could have conquered above. You just have no vision. Your people own the most powerful and richest banks above, the magical world is reliant on them and yet you sit in your castle alone. The Labyrinth has more magic and riches than any land in the underground, more portals to above than anywhere. You could have anything you wanted and you don't deserve or show gratefulness for any of it. It's not a mistake I will make brother; with the goblins at my back I'm going to change the universe!"

Jareth smiled "You will never be the Goblin King. Donald, it doesn't work like that, the succession passes in a very different way. I thought you understood. You weren't passed over for the throne brother; it was never yours and never could be. And the Labyrinth would never bond with my killer. You'd be lucky if she'd just kill you."

Donald struck quickly; a single blow and Jareth's head snapped backwards hitting the wall and leaving a trail of blood. "You're a liar, the whole family lies. I'm as worthy as you brother."

Jareth spat out some blood "It has nothing to do with deserving it. The throne is mine, there is only one king and it's me. Deserved or not. You should enjoy your freedom, for that's the one thing I can never have. Let me go Donald, before I get really angry. I'm the only person who can stop what will happen to you when you leave here. Even if you escape the Labyrinth there is nowhere you could hide from angry goblins."

"Angry! You still think you can stop me don't you. My god Jareth, your arrogance is unbelievable. You couldn't stop me last time though, could you and I don't remember having to hide from anyone."

He paused though, if this went wrong his brother was right, you couldn't hide from goblins on the hunt and there was no denying the bloodthirsty nature of some of the breeds, especially the hobgoblins. In fact he was counting on it to help him conquer the world above. But no, things wouldn't go wrong, once their blood link to Jareth was broken they would have no more loyalty to him and the spell and Jareth's blood sacrifice was all that was needed to convince the old wild magic to bond to him instead, rights of the conqueror. He'd studied for years, just to make sure, studied the oldest and darkest of magic's, and though he had only little magic himself he was going to be able to use Jareth's. He was still the older brother, his parents were dead now and he'd killed any kin that could challenge his place as head of the family. It would be enough for the magic. There was no magic stronger than that of blood.

"What do you mean last time?" Jareth questioned in horror.

"Such pretty scars you wear brother dearest" Donald stroked his brothers back with the gun. Jareth flinched.

"You?" he felt betrayed, and yet a weight seemed to lift, one he had not known he was carrying.

"But I thought...the council?"

Donald laughed, "I needed to test the magic, _little_ brother. Needed to know I could, but the bonds to your people and the Labyrinth were too strong. They felt your pain, they didn't realise it of course, you felt anger and pain and you hated your torturers, the goblins, and they felt it all the same and fell to fighting against your enemy, each other. It all got very messy. I needed to weaken the bonds between you still further, to transfer them to me of course. I was almost there, but you were just a little bit too strong, so I let you escape. I watched you crawl your way back here. You're weak brother, you've pushed away your only defence, and you no longer have enough of a bond with them to break through a pair of handcuffs."

Jareth felt sick. His brother was completely crazy; he'd always known it really. Deep down, but he'd pushed it away, forgiven Donald's actions every time, because he was right, Jareth had so much and Donald had nothing. When they were kids, it was Donald who knew and loved the ever present goblins first. They were his best friends; he just hadn't understood that they loved him only because he was Jareth's brother. At heart goblins were only loyal to goblins and they'd abandoned interest in Donald as soon as Jareth started crawling.

Jareth smiled, it was not a nice smile. He knew the truth now and no longer had any need to hold back from his people. They hadn't hurt him, hadn't forgotten him and hadn't left him. He could stop holding back now. He hadn't even known he was doing it. His brother was right, he was only able to do this because Jareth was letting him, was allowing his own magic to be used against him. There should be no magic strong enough to stop him calling for help if he needed it. He breathed deeply and centred himself, he just needed to let go, to stop pulling away from them. It had been 200 years since he had started pushing and he just needed too...But if he did this it would be over. Jareth was the King of the Goblins and usually his word was law, but there were certain circumstances when even he couldn't hold the goblins back. If they found out what Donald had done they'd tear him to pieces. Just having drawn the blood of their King and the goblins would have blood in revenge. If Jareth called them, his brother would die, his last link to his childhood and family would be gone forever.

He held back again.

The handcuffs tightened and grew stronger; Jareth had in a way consented to the abuse of his magic. He was thrown off the bed and Donald finally let lose his feelings of hatred. Jareth still delayed calling for help, though the blows were painful, but Donald still didn't stop. Jareth's love for his brother died further with each blow. It went on for over an hour until Jareth was bloodied and bruised with several cracked ribs and a broken arm. Jareth still held back, he pleaded and begged his brother to stop, but it was far too late for Donald.

Donald started on the pentagon, when it was finished he stood over his bound brother and Jareth finally understood that there was nothing in his brother that loved him at all.

"Don't worry brother, it'll soon be over" Donald smirked. Soon he would be the most powerful man alive. He thrust the dagger into Jareth's stomach without hesitation.

Jareth screamed and finally let go, let the pain open the link to his subjects. The bond between King and subjects blasted open, and Jareth screamed his pain. For the first time in many years there was not a doubt in his mind that they would come for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

They stopped what they were doing instantly, even those with just the smallest amount of goblin blood paused for a second. The king was calling for help, the King was screaming in pain. So they went to him.

The warrior's castes, keen to use their skills, arrived first. They broke down the door, took one look at Jareth lying bound in a pentagon and tore his brother to pieces.

They descended on Donald pulling him apart using just tooth and nail, the first rush hadn't taken the time to pick up weapons and Donald managed to kill and wound several of them as they attacked.

That was when the more intelligent goblins arrived, led by Sir Hugh and all armed to the teeth. Jareth still laying bound in the pentagon could only watch in horror, the goblins were not tame creatures, were not civilised like the elves or the humans. Their instincts were strong and they rarely resisted them. There was no instinct stronger than their urge to protect their King. He'd known that once, and believed in it.

His brother had never understood, never noticed that Jareth looked nothing like his parents or his brother; Donald's magic had worked, not because of familial bloodties, but because of feelings.

Jareth had loved his big brother and that had given his brother a lot of power, Donald just hadn't understood. Their parents had loved Jareth, had accepted him into their family, though they must have suspected, when the goblins came calling. Jareth had been born of his mother's womb, but it was unknowingly seeded by a goblin. Like a cuckoo chick, Jareth had been left to be raised by mortals, as was goblin tradition for the King. Jareth was the Goblin King, no outsider really understood the term as it was meant by goblins, and they assumed it meant he was 'King of the Goblins'. They never saw him as the goblin he was. There was, and could be, only one living Goblin King at a time, and here and now there was Jareth.

A doctor was at Jareth's side almost instantly and Jareth looked away as the knife was examined. He didn't pull it out though, instead pouring a potion over both the knife and the wound. Jareth whimpered softly, still staring at the remains of his brother. His view was blocked suddenly, as Sir Hugh, confident that the room was secured, crouched down next to him, untying him from the ropes that bound him.

Hugh stared at the pentagon intently, magical rituals weren't really his area, "is it safe to move him?" he questioned the doctor quietly.

The doctor frowned, this wasn't his area of specialty either, "We're going to need an expert, could do more harm than good."

Hugh stared at the King, "can you do anything for him here?"

The doctor ignored him, intent on his patient, "I've done what I can," he said finally. "The arms broken, but it's a clean break. There seem to be a few cracked ribs which is concerning, but I should have them healed in a few more minutes. The knife wound is the big concern, he'll bleed out if I remove it, but if it's poisoned or spelled it might be doing more harm for later on." He paused in thought, "I poured a stasis potion on it, which should give us more time. We need to get him to the hospital though and fairly fast."

Jareth whined slightly, sub-vocally sending his distress to the goblins, Hugh growled back in reassurance, stroking Jareth's hair lightly. He watched as Gringott curse breakers whispered together and took notes.

Three days later and the King was brooding. He'd barely left his chambers since he'd escaped the hospital, questions were being asked by goblins and non-goblins everywhere and Jareth knew he needed to pull himself together and give them some answers. But what could he tell them? That his brother hated him?

Jareth had been a blind fool for centuries. The answers were there, once he started looking. A simple history book had shown him the war from the point of view of the goblins. He could have had his answers years ago, had he ever looked. He'd been stuck in his own pain, self-absorbed.

The civil war, had puzzled historians for years, but he knew now that goblin had gone for goblin, until blood was spilled. His people hadn't understood either, had done just what he'd told them and gone for the enemy. His lack of trust had killed hundreds if not thousands of goblins. He was the one who had turned his back on the goblins; he was the one who had broken faith. They'd hated him, because he'd hated himself. His brother was right; he didn't deserve to be King.

The council was nearing the end of its patience. No one understood what was going on, how an assassin had got through the Labyrinth undetected, or why Jareth had waited until he was stabbed before calling for help.

Now the Labyrinth was moody and impossible to traverse, the King wouldn't speak to anyone, and Goblin city was filled to the brim with goblins ready for a fight. Worse, Jareth's call, the shock of it, still resonated. The goblins needed to see their King for themselves before they would leave. But Jareth wasn't showing himself, wasn't in fact leaving his bedchamber.

So they summoned him, demanded his presence. Jareth though offended that they would dare give him orders went anyway, blackly amused at their presumption. He was just about sick of his bedchamber by now, and the Labyrinth wasn't talking to him at all, so he judged it safer not to venture out into the maze. He was pretty sure he would end up in a very embarrassing situation.

They hadn't really expected him to respond to the summons, and weren't sure what to do with him when he actually arrived. So he lounged on his chair looking bored.

He wasn't bored though, and for the first time in days he had a reason to smile.

"Current betting is a failed sexual encounter" Fenrook finally observed. Jareth choked on his drink. It took several minutes till he could breathe again. Goblins weren't known for their social niceties, or their ability to be discreet.

"You know, I did try that once," Jareth mused, silently laughing at them. They blinked first. "Oddly enough, it ended in much the same way as this."

"Minus my screams for help," He added helpfully.

In actual fact, he'd been most displeased at the time, it had taken him months to see the funny side, and fortunately his partner had only been a mortal and a one night stand at that. Jareth had little, to no rights when they thought him in danger. Pieces of the mortal had been found all over the castle for the next week. Luckily, he hadn't especially enjoyed the experience of not being in control and felt no need to repeat the experiment.

He laughed at their blank faces, the flicker of anger they couldn't hide, at the idea of someone hurting him, and his letting them. It wasn't uncommon in goblin society. Sex and violence was the favourite activities of most breeds of goblin, and had been combined in many extreme ways over the centuries. But the idea that Jareth had participated, conflicted with the goblins First law. Protect the King from harm.

How had he not noticed how much they cared? It was like he'd been blind for many years, but now he was seeing again. And now here he was, looking outside of himself for the first time in centuries, and there was so much to see, so much he had missed! They couldn't even stand the thought of his having violent sex and he'd thought; he'd believed that they hated him. Jareth laughed.

They stared at him; they'd never seen the King quite like this before.

"So it wasn't sexual then?" Fenrook tried.

"He was...he was my brother." He saw that they didn't believe him, thought he only meant a dear friend. He didn't care.

Jareth sighed and played with his empty glass, he didn't dare look at them, for they would see the truth in his statement. The nearest council member, Ragnok his mind supplied, promptly filled his glass and he took a sip. Elvin wine, some of the finest around, even the richest of families could only afford it for special occasions. Yet he had it on tap, at his slightest whim and served to him by some of the most powerful people across both the magical and mundane worlds. His only introduction to cheaper drinks was when he absconded to a local tavern for an evening of mayhem. His brother may have had a point; he'd been hiding in the Labyrinth since the war. Maybe it was time to go and see what else there was.

"I think," he paused in thought, "I think I want to go Aboveground, get out of here for awhile."

He clutched his head as the Labyrinth went hysterical. He sighed and opened his thoughts, to what he wanted, needed and his promise that this was his home and always would be. He wasn't entirely believed, he'd lied once now after all. However he got a grudging agreement, the Labyrinth knew everything now, knew how hard a time he was having coping with his brother's actions and very final ending. Jareth would get some freedom and some time to sort himself out.

"You want to leave the Labyrinth?" Fenrook said in horror.

"Not forever," Jareth replied "Just for awhile, I need something else."

The council descended into outrage, so Jareth spelled it out angrily

"My brother hated me, tried to kill me and was then pulled apart. I need some time to think."

"Where will you go Sire?" questioned Ragnok

Jareth shrugged, he had no idea. It was a spur of the moment decision that had now taken hold and he went with it, well used to following his own whims. "Aboveground, somewhere different, somewhere with..." he stopped unsure; he didn't really know what he wanted. He hadn't thought this through, just wanted adventure, wanted to leave his ever so comfortable life.

The council glanced around at each other for an answer; the King would be vulnerable if he left the Labyrinth. They needed to play this very carefully, if Jareth thought they were against this, he would leave anyway, probably to somewhere even more dangerous than his original intention, just to spite them.

Ragnok smiled "Perhap a tour Sire,"

"A tour? A tour of what?" Jareth said blinking in surprise.

"Why Gringott's of course" smiled Ragnok "and then of course there is the recently discovered tombs of the Egyptian queen Mamoosh, discovered by a mortal wizard I believe, a Bill Weasley. And then there are the Hobgoblins, of course, they would welcome a visit from your Highness. And erm, well..."

Fenrook stepped into the breach "I believe there have been many advances within the wizarding world above, since your last visit and the goblins will have much to show off"

Jareth smiled, they must think he was an absolute idiot. Nevertheless he let them get away with it. It would quell the silent fears of his Labyrinth, offer something interesting and allow him some time to connect with his own people. It was a great idea.

"All right," he replied "A tour it shall be," he smiled at their astonishment. They hadn't expected it to be so easy

"Tomorrow," He stated "I'm leaving tomorrow, whether you have something to show me, or not." He smiled at them. Loving the connection he could feel once again, the trust he could allow himself to feel, even though they didn't know it yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The morning dawned and Jareth hadn't changed his mind at all, honestly believing that a holiday would be good for him. His Labyrinth's fears had calmed once he thought of his trip in those terms. In fact the Labyrinth was almost encouraging, wanting its master to be happy again, daring to hope that things could get back to how they were, before the war.

He smiled inwardly when he saw how many goblins awaited him, how many warriors were thought needed on this simple trip abroad.

"You don't think this is a little excessive?" he questioned Ragnok, his new tour guide, glancing at what was almost a small horde of goblins. All of them armed to the teeth.

"And did I mention I wanted some quiet on this trip?"

Ragnok smiled nervously.

"Let me rephrase" Jareth added dangerously. "The last thing I want, or need, is this. I've been to the Aboveground, but I've always gone alone until now. You think I've lost the ability to protect myself somehow? You think this is what I wanted? It isn't, and I have few qualms about going without any of you at all."

Ragnok swallowed nervously, perhaps he had been excessive, but this was still the King and his safety was paramount. "Perhaps we don't need all of the guards," he allowed.

The number of full-time bodyguards was more than halved and Ragnok was beginning to panic. This was the point that Sir Hugh stepped in and took him aside. "You can't protect the King as you would like," he said quietly. "The trick is to protect discreetly. The more he see's your protections, the more he will kick up about them. If he doesn't see your protections then all will be well."

Ragnok paused in thought, perhaps he would need to rethink. Sir Hugh had a very compelling point. He'd never seen the King with much protection, but perhaps that was because he hadn't seen the protection, rather than any absence.

"He has gone alone to the Aboveground?" he questioned dubiously.

Sir Hugh smiled "He was as alone as he can get." He answered, with a grin. Ragnok was beginning to understand his position. Hugh smirked back; Jareth had been in real danger rather less often than he thought. His trips to the local taverns had been safe enough. There was little here that the Labyrinth itself couldn't guard against, and enough of a goblin presence to stop any real trouble. Although the Labyrinth had lost the goblins trust recently, what with two assassination attempts and no warning from the Labyrinth at all.

Jareth's trips to the Aboveground had always been of higher priority, the knights were unsure how much Jareth really understood about the dangers in the mundane world, yet they were unwilling to curb the trips, as Jareth generally came back calmer, happier and more alive. The key was that if Jareth felt trapped he would be unbearable to everyone.

The trick, as Jareth's tour guide, would be to allow the King his freedom, without actually allowing the King to be alone, or in any danger. Ragnok was head of a huge corporation; Gringott's was the biggest goblin success story of all time. No goblin in the vicinity of Jareth could fail to also be a protector. So maybe Ragnok would have to learn to trust his people. Every goblin had a duty to protect the King, not just the warrior caste. Maybe he should trust that. Make sure the King had as little presence amongst non-goblins as possible, and allow that he would be safe enough amongst his own kind.

Sir Hugh watched the group leave with mixed feelings. It was his job to provide the King's security and yet he'd been explicitly forbidden from attending the tour. Jareth making it quite clear that a tour guide and a few guards would be more than adequate security.

Hugh had backed down from his King, as he always did, though he fully intended to be kept informed at all times. Though, unknown to Jareth, Hugh had also demoted one of his best generals to Captain for the duration of Jareth's tour and sneaked him into the King's guards. There was no chance he was going to leave his King's security to solely rely on the efforts of a banker and the poorly trained standing army regardless of his orders.

He was new to the job of Weapons Master and though technically he was in charge of all security for the goblin nation, tradition had somehow meant that he had very little actual power. Hugh's predecessors, had gotten sick of being both powerless and inactive and so at some point had turned their attentions to the training and provision of goblin mercenaries.

The Hobgoblin mercenaries, being trained by Hugh and his predecessors were well-trained seasoned warriors and brought huge revenue to the Labyrinth economy, second only to the might of Gringott's bank. They also, as Hugh had recently realized spent their entire existence protecting non-goblins, only showing up in the Labyrinth for training and vacations, where they generally let loose and caused complete chaos. They not only got paid more than the standing army, but were the preferred destination of any goblin with the least bit of intelligence.

The standing army on the other hand had been a joke for years. As far as Hugh could see, security of the Labyrinth borders was minimal and undertaken by poorly trained men, consisting of those rejected by Hugh's battalions of mercenaries, being led by about 3 different generals, none of whom had ever even been in a proper battle and who spent most of their time arguing and contradicting each other. Security at the borders of the Labyrinth was therefore hopelessly outdated, completely inconsistent and downright nonexistent in part. Sir Hugh was hoping that with the King out of the country he would at last be able to do something about the absolutely appalling standard of internal security.

Jareth first outing was a tour of a famous French tomb site, along with some mortal wizards. Jareth had insisted on tagging along, rather than having a personal tour, though he was now paying the price as he lagged behind the main group. The tour guide was under orders to pay no attention to Jareth in front of mortals, and he couldn't slow the tour down any more then he had already.

Jareth glanced around tired; he'd been stabbed and beaten, but 4 days ago. He might talk a good talk, but the truth was that he was still recovering, both physically and mentally and this walk was too much for him. He wouldn't admit it though, would fight till he fell, before he admitted a weakness. He leaned against a convenient wall as his guide paused, feeling distinctly unwell. The tour guide moved on, but Jareth remained still, letting the mortals flood and pass around him.

They'd seen the signs, but had no way to stop things without revealing themselves.

When it became clear the King was about to collapse, they gave the guide the signal to move the tour forward, they would take care of Jareth personally and discreetly, so they waited till the tour had completely left before revealing themselves.

The King himself was too tired to wonder at their sudden appearance, could only be grateful as he was transported. He arrived in a bedchamber fit only for a King. But he knew not where he was, and was too tired to care. So Jareth fell upon the bed and slept, unmindful of those who removed his boots and outer garments.

Jareth awoke some twelve hours later, rested but with no memory of his arrival. His chest hurt where he'd been stabbed and his side hurt from where he'd been shot. He also had a pounding headache and had drooled all over his pillow. Not a good start to his second day in the Aboveground.

By the time he had dressed himself it was afternoon and he still felt awful. He wasn't really keen on leaving the chambers, but he needed to eat. He rather suspected he might need to see a doctor as well. For the first time he was unsure about this trip, maybe it really was too much for him, maybe he couldn't cope Aboveground after all.

He opened the door to his chambers to find two goblins outside watching him closely. He stared at them, and they stared back. He really didn't want to say it, but it needed to be said.

"I think I need a doctor," Jareth almost questioned.

It was all that was needed. He was gently, but firmly, prodded back to his chamber and he went with a certain amount of relief. His chest really hurt.

It took only a few minutes until someone arrived. It was the same doctor as last time, Davidson his mind provided. He hurt too much to care about how he was prodded; lying on his bed he was barely awake until the insistent voice in his ear.

"Are you allergic to anything else?" the doctor asked gently to a half conscious King. There would be no more chances taken.

"No, just the dandelion," Jareth managed to reply "Everything hurts," he added. The doctor sighed

"You overdid things, Sire. It will take time before you are up to strenuous activity. Drink this." He added, giving Jareth another foul smelling potion.

Jareth grunted, exhausted again. Almost asleep even before the doctor left, yet again in all his clothing.

It was the next day before he woke again, or at least he thought it was. This time he was in much less pain. Jareth dressed again, vaguely wondering how he had undressed the first time around, or indeed the second. This time he left the chambers determined to find food. There were 2 different goblins on guard this time, though he knew better than to comment.

There would always be guards outside, regardless of his own feelings on the matter.

He'd escaped them only once in his life, but had strangely been unable to sleep at all without that feeling of safety. He'd never told them that though, he didn't want, after all, to encourage their excesses.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Jareth's guards led him down to a breakfast room, though it was clearly already past lunchtime. Jareth didn't care, he was that hungry. He was less surprised to see Doctor Davidson waiting for him, along with Fenrook, Ragnok and Sir Hugh than he ought to be. They were going to lecture him, he could feel it. It was unnecessary though; he already knew he'd been stupid and overdone things. He just hadn't wanted to show weakness in front of mortals, wizards or not.

He'd been right too, though they'd been unaccountably gentle about doing so. He was still not quite used to not hating everyone around him and his own change in behaviour was, he knew, causing talk. His sneers and derision were suddenly half-hearted at best, though he had no idea how to start going about actually building a relationship with his council.

Over the next few days his councillors were surprisingly quick to take advantage of this new behaviour and, already feeling more protective of Jareth than they had felt in years, slowly discovered that with a little gentle firmness, Jareth would in now awkwardly listen to them. Much unlike his previous haughty disdain should they have ever been brave enough to bring up their concerns previously. They grew in confidence as Jareth seemingly grew more fragile, openly showing his need of them.

Jareth wasn't quite sure how it had happened, the quiet concern he could see in their eyes meant he had somehow started backing down slightly on things they felt strongly about. He was a little uneasy that in only days of this behaviour he suddenly seemed to have lost much of his power over them. He'd been all-powerful for centuries and yet suddenly, instead of backing down and obeying his every whim, they nodded, smiled and all but patted him on the head. He was entirely unsure how to react to this and his confused inaction only seemed to encourage them.

Suddenly, control of security belonged firmly to Sir Hugh, with Jareth's wishes listened to and then gently ignored. Control of the tour schedule also carefully slipped from Jareth's control to Ragnok's, with Jareth offered a choice of activities, but not consulted on any details. The tour was very carefully tailored to Jareth's health and safety and only after that to Jareth's interests.

They were managing him, he knew, had come to the conclusion that somehow he was entirely incapable of looking after himself, though he'd been doing so for years. It wasn't quite what he had expected when he had stopped drawing away from the goblin bond and he knew that if he didn't start fighting back soon, things would end up changing permanently and there had been huge advantages to having a council that both obeyed and feared him.

Unfortunately for Jareth being the all-powerful King had been, over the years, rather unbearably lonely and stopping the councils grab for power meant he also had to push away his own need for some companionship. A difficult task, for the more they openly seemed to care for him, the more he seemed to back down from confronting them.

Meanwhile back in the Labyrinth, the Kingdom ground to a standstill, though Jareth had only been gone a week. The council was finding that unfortunately nobody (apart from Jareth himself) appeared to believe that any responsibility for the country lay with them, Hugh being one of them. He'd never noticed before quite how much of his time he had spent running around asking Jareth's permission before he did anything, most of the time Jareth had been entirely uninterested in Hugh's ideas and been rather snide whenever Hugh tried to improve things.

Sir Hugh settled into his new relationship with the King happily and as the balance of power continued to shift his way, so his confidence grew. He started thinking more and more about making some rather significant changes. It was becoming more than clear that previous Weapons Masters had simply left security of both the throne and the nation, to Jareth. Who was untrained, uninterested and entirely over confident in both his magic and his Labyrinth.

Hugh couldn't quite remember why the council had been so afraid of taking action, to the point where things were in absolute chaos now Jareth had left, with Fenrook and the rest of the council all but having breakdowns. Looking back, Jareth had always been more talk than action though had still effectively terrorized the nation.

The more time they spent with Jareth, the less fearful they became. Jareth being so surprised and uncertain whenever they showed him even a hint of kindness, so vulnerable to even a touch of caring, it was shaming. The more they saw him, the more protective they became. Everything they'd done over the years had been for Jareth, yet somehow they'd forgotten this.

Jareth buttered his toast while looking suspiciously at the doors. Goblin guards were on duty, as usual, though for some reason they seemed different. They were larger for a start, standing about his height, which was unusual in his army. Generally the army was filled with the smaller, less intelligent, fighters. These looked far too dangerous to be members. Bearing scars as proof of their experience. They didn't even look like the Gringott guards he had just got used to either. Generally Jareth pretty much assumed any guards to be more decoration than actual use, though to be fair this was with pretty good reason. These guards did not look in the least like decoration.

He eyed Sir Hugh, who for some unknown reason had joined him for breakfast, though Jareth had been under the impression he was busy in the Labyrinth.

"Is something wrong?" he inquired.

Hugh looked surprised, "No sire."

Jareth nodded his head towards the guards, "They look more like some of yours?"

Hugh smirked, "I'm consolidating."

Jareth looked confused, "You're what?"

"It's been brought to my attention that we seem to have ended up with 4 different armies. Some of which could use some actual training. My job, as I understand it, is to be in charge of all security matters. I've decided to make some changes and consolidate for effectiveness.

"Ah," Jareth replied, returning to his breakfast.

Hugh blinked, confused, "You're ok with this Sire?" he'd been expecting a fight, had prepared extensively.

Jareth shrugged, "You're the Weapons Master."

"Yes, but... well I rather thought you might..." Hugh trailed off, uncertain how to say, have a temper tantrum, without being insulting.

Jareth looked up, "You're right; it's your job to be in charge of security. If you think you need to consolidate the armies, then you should do so. Frankly I can't imagine them getting any more incompetent then they already are, so you can't possibly make anything worse."

Hugh blinked, about to argue the case, but then realised that Jareth never saw any of the extremely gifted goblins under his command. Other than the council, most intelligent goblins had left the Labyrinth, joining the mercenaries or Gringott's, as soon as they reached maturity. Hugh had never given much thought to how much of a drain this might be on the Labyrinth population, or Jareth's opinion of them. Did he truly think goblin society as weak and pathetic as was showcased by his own army?

Jareth eyed the guards thoughtfully and went back to his toast with a shrug. Time would tell.

Hugh finished his breakfast bemused. This was the reaction he had been dreading? If Jareth in fact was perfectly fine with allowing Hugh to get on with his job, then why exactly had successive Weapons Masters, himself included, been so afraid to implement any changes?

Jareth, as Hugh explained his vision for the future, didn't sneer at all, and in fact actually showed some interest, even offering some rather sensible suggestions.

Hugh eyed him thoughtfully.

"When I asked you about implementing changes last year, you were completely against it," he started slowly.

Jareth sighed, "You didn't want to make changes last year. You wanted me to make them. I have more than enough on my plate as it is without redesigning the entire system."

Hugh opened his mouth to argue, but then paused thoughtfully. Thinking back, most of his requests for change did seem to involve getting Jareth to do something, be it from paperwork to actually implementation.

"The Knights are finding your absence hard, their workload seems to have increased dramatically and most of the council are close to having breakdowns." Hugh started slowly. He eyed the King.

Jareth chewed his toast thoughtfully. He'd not really asked about how the Labyrinth was faring, knew he would have been informed of any truly major disasters. This was the first time he had been away for a long time now; he was fully prepared to return to a disaster zone.

"Ragnok has taken over the nations finances, along with a Gringott's accountancy team. Sir Kingston appears to have his hands full with repairing and maintaining the country's infrastructure. Fenrook is trying to hold everything else together, including an unforeseen diplomatic incident. Sir Didymus threw a tantrum when judging a dispute between the centeurs and the fireys, said he'd had enough of people whining at him to solve all their problems."

Jareth sighed, "I'll deal with it when I get back."

"I was not intending to suggest it wasn't being handled. I was just wondering how exactly you'd been managing to run an entire kingdom single-handedly. I believe it's something we are all wondering. Fenrook has started a recruitment drive and we've been poaching people from Gringott's in large numbers, but your absence seems to have crippled the country."

Jareth shrugged, "I'm the King."

Fenrook and Ragnok appeared in the doorway and sat down after a nod to their King.

"You can't honestly believe that it's your job to single-handedly manage the economy, balance the budget, dispense justice, keep immigration under control, manage the defences, manage diplomacy issues, Gringott's and a whole host of other things," Hugh continued in disbelief.

It did seem rather a lot now that Hugh came to mention it, but the truth was that Jareth wasn't managing to single-handedly run the country. He was in fact just plugging holes as the country's infrastructure creaked and threatened collapse around him.

"I've been telling people for years to stop coming to me with every single little detail. All any of the council, you included, ever seems to do is whine at me to fix their problems." Jareth paused and began ticking off on his fingers,

"The Knights are so useless; it's generally quicker and safer for me to just handle any problem with the natives. The army is beyond useless, I have no idea what my Weapons Masters actually do with their time, but I'm the one forced to make sure the borders remain secure. I have no idea what my head councillor does either, or my counsellor of finance," he took a quick glance at the three of them.

"So i'm also forced, in my spare time, to manage the economy and all financial affairs of state with the use of a single secretary that I frankly wouldn't personally trust with a household budget." Jareth paused for a second staring at Fenrook.

"The rest of the council spends all of its time whining and complaining, demanding action about this, that or the other and strangely enough any kind of action seems to just involve more work for me. So don't be blaming me if you lot have to actually do a day's work for once."

He went back to his breakfast.

Hugh stared, Jareth's point of view was unexpected. He'd spent his career thinking his King uncaring about his country and people, he'd thought that when Jareth yelled and sneered and was derisive towards them that he just didn't care.

Then it turned out that without Jareth the entire country ground to a stand-still almost instantly. He'd thought then that Jareth was just controlling, unwilling to allow help from the council and thereby was stifling growth and change, no one man could do everything after all.

Now it seemed Jareth had been begging for help for years, with every sneer and put down, he'd actually just been telling them to handle their own affairs, he'd not been saying do nothing

"I believe we may have been misunderstanding each other," Hugh tried. "The council has been rather under the impression that they are not, in fact, allowed to take any action without consulting you. But by the time we have begged and pleaded for an interview, then begged and pleaded to be allowed to take action, and then possibly gone through it all again because you've forgotten what you agreed to or another problem crops up, we've usually either given up or it's far too late and the problem has either become so big that you've interceded and solved it, or it has sorted itself out some other way."

Jareth looked thoughtful, "I'm that much of an ogre?" he asked in dismay.

The three goblins looked at each other.

"We were simply under the impression that you didn't want or need our input," Fenrook answered gently. The truth was that, yes, Jareth had been that much of an ogre.

"But I've been begging for help for years," Jareth replied. "One person cannot run an entire country alone."

"It's a mess, by the way," Ragnok stated.

Jareth blinked at him.

"The Labyrinth's financial affairs," Ragnok prompted.

Jareth smiled slightly, "I know. We're either very rich or very close to complete financial meltdown, I haven't even been able to figure out which."

"It's both, which is in fact a rather impressive achievement," answered Ragnok.

Jareth sighed.

"I've got my best team working on it, desperately trying to get some sense out of the numbers. We have at least started actually paying our creditors, though we're using money from the bank until we can figure things out."

"We've also fired your secretary for total incompetence."

Jareth looked vaguely annoyed at their presumption.

Ragnok helped himself to some bacon, "On the plus side, Sir Hugh has taken over Gringott's security, which is frankly a huge weight off our back and will allow me to concentrate on actual banking matters. Already safety on excavations has improved dramatically."

Sir Hugh smiled slightly, "The Gringott security team has, in certain areas, already been trained very well, I'm planning on splitting everyone into new battalions all including a mixture of my mercenaries, the Gringott security team and the standing army. I'm going to start a rotation system so all battalions rotate between serving in the Labyrinth, Gringott's and working as mercenaries. It should actually improve their skills."

"Do the goblins actually want this?" Jareth asked. "Only it might cause a lot of resentment that having gained a good job at either Gringott's or having chosen the mercenary profession, you're basically changing their entire job description."

Sir Hugh looked surprised, "Regardless of their job title, they work for the goblin nation. They'll do what they are told."

He turned round and beckoned to the guard at the door, "Lieutenant, do you have a problem working for Gringott's or the Labyrinth?"

The guard stepped forward and straightened to attention, "No Sir" he replied staring straight ahead.

Jareth looked amused; he clearly wasn't the only one who could put the fear of god into the goblins.

"You don't mind that your current battalion is effectively broken up? I thought you mercenaries were very proud of the battalions you serve in."

"Yes Your Majesty, we are, but ultimately we are loyal to the orders of the Weapons Master. We will adjust Sire."

Sir Hugh dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand. "I'm going to have to pull back on some security commitments for awhile, which will mean a slightly smaller income and we'll need to be careful some of our customers don't start using the competition, but it's all doable. I've sent one of my generals to broker peace between Lord Endeby and the Sybians, and that should free up some more men."

"You think it'll be that easy to broker peace?" Fenrook questioned doubtfully.

Hugh smiled, "Considering we deliberately started the war, it should be simple enough."

They stared at him, so he explained, "I've been using it as a training ground for recruits. I've been having the men switch sides all the time so they can see the war through both points of view."

"Don't people notice?"

"You'd be surprised how few people take any notice of the rank and file," Hugh replied.

"It's not only been an excellent training opportunity, it's also been rather a good money spinner, both sides making extensive use of our services. The boys have some fun too; they seem to enjoy fighting each other and then pretending to die in horrible ways."

They stared at him.

"It sounds horribly unethical," Jareth answered finishing his last slice of toast.

Sir Hugh smiled, showing teeth. He was a goblin and the affairs of outsiders meant less than nothing to him.

Jareth smirked back and leaned back in his chair with his coffee.

There was silence for awhile as breakfast was finished.


	6. Chapter 6

_Bit of a boring filler chapter really, sorry, but actual things, maybe even a plot, will happen at some point in the story, possibly, maybe... if I get round to it :)_

* * *

Jareth finished his breakfast thoughtfully; it looked like his absence from the Labyrinth was having a beneficial effect on the council.

"What about the Knights?" he asked eventually. Earlier Hugh had talked of complete amalgamation of forces, not just a partial one.

Sir Hugh looked up. In truth he was rather unsure how to deal with the high mortality rate of a knight of the Labyrinth. They were struggling at the moment, forced to navigate the Labyrinth alone and force their decisions on an unwilling public, which could get rather violent if they thought themselves hard-done-to.

"I'm not sure yet," he answered carefully. "Something needs to be done about the mortality rate at the very least."

Jareth snorted, "Something needs to be done about their complete incompetence, sod the mortality rate."

Hugh pursed his lips and Fenrook frowned contemplatively, "You don't have a high opinion of the Knights, do you Sire?"

Jareth shook his head, "They have no idea what they are doing and always make more of a mess of anything they attempt. They make even the simplest of problems into disasters and when they do actually get round to sorting out any issues they always make a complete hash of it. They're completely prejudiced too, I don't even need to hear what the problem between two sides is before I could tell you which side they'd be in favour of."

Hugh frowned uncertainly and glanced over at Fenrook, that wasn't his opinion of the Knights at all. He thought most of them honourable and knowledgeable in the face of a disdainful population.

"Prejudiced?" Fenrook asked confused.

"You tell me any issue they have been dealing with in my absence and i'll tell you whose side they were on." Jareth announced confidently.

The three council members looked at each other.

"There was an issue involving the fireys and a human settlement," Fenrook tried.

"They took the humans side and even probably tried telling the fireys they were banned from the area containing the human settlement." Jareth answered.

Fenrook blinked, "Well, some goblins from Highcross had a problem with the mermaids."

"The Knight sided with the mermaids. The goblins refused to accept the decision and caused a riot,"

They looked at each other, Jareth had been right on the money.

"There was an issue Didymus dealt with involving a junk lady and a human," Hugh tried.

Jareth sighed, "Let me guess, the human took something that was in the junk ladies possession and then refused to give it back. Didymus sided with the human, but gave monetary compensation to the junk lady, who would not have been best pleased!"

They looked at each other, but couldn't argue against the fact that Jareth was right on all counts.

"I've always found the Knights honourable," Fenrook said.

"Of course you have. You're the sort that they always side with," Jareth answered tiredly.

"The sort?" Hugh questioned.

"They always side with the obviously vulnerable or honourable, they give no thought to any society that they don't understand or agree with." Jareth answered.

"It would never occur to a Knight that by judging that one possession to belong to its original owner, that they were also questioning the junk ladies ownership of everything she carried. Or to question the fact that the Fireys lived in the forest first and that it's their job to set fire to things! I've been expecting that problem for awhile, ever since the humans settled there.

The Fireys are part of the forests ecosystem, they kill off the old, allowing room for the new. I would have told the humans that if they wished to stay in the forest they would have to move the settlement every few years. In return the Fireys would have to agree to not set the settlement alight in future. Nobody would have been happy, but everyone would have found a way to live together.

Instead, I'll bet the Fireys left the forest and are causing havoc across the entire Labyrinth."

Fenrook looked at Hugh thoughtfully; Jareth had grasped the current situation perfectly.

"Perhaps you should tell them that."

"Me? I've been telling them how incompetent they are for years, but it hasn't made a difference," Jareth answered surprised.

"But have you ever tried telling them what they are doing wrong, or have you just taken over and solved the problem yourself?" Hugh asked, beginning to see where Fenrook was going with this.

Jareth looked bemused, "it's obvious what they are doing wrong. They never look at what the problem actually is, they just pick a side and they always pick the obvious victims, regardless of circumstance. Though nothing is ever what it seems in the Labyrinth, as I keep endlessly telling everyone!"

"It wasn't obvious to me," Ragnok interjected.

"And I've just spent the last week trying to figure out how to corral the Fireys and make them respect the knight's decision," Fenrook added.

"It isn't your job to keep the peace though," Jareth answered.

Fenrook sat back and thought about things. He'd never thought about the nation the way Jareth obviously did. He suspected he was just as guilty as the knights when it came to the things Jareth mentioned. He'd agreed with the knight's decision and had spent his time trying to entice the Fireys to go home and obey the directive. He'd not once thought about things from the Fireys point of view or given them the slightest consideration. They'd set fire to the settlers camp and that meant they were the aggressors and should be punished.

Fenrook was beginning to suspect that Jareth was actually a very good King. Someone who spent most of his life making decisions that, while making him horribly unpopular, somehow also allowed the diverse Labyrinth population to actually manage to live together in relative harmony. The knights meanwhile were making the decisions that the majority of the population agreed with, but were in fact actually causing larger problems further down the road.

"Would you be averse to talking to them?" Fenrook asked slowly, "maybe just explaining the reasons behind some of your past decisions."

Jareth blinked uncertainly, "they already know what they are doing wrong."

"I'm not so sure they do." Fenrook answered, "they make the honourable decision because they believe that is the right thing to do. I'm not sure any of them see these problems the same way you do."

Jareth frowned, "they won't listen to me though."

"Sire have you ever actually tried explaining the problem to them?" Fenrook tried.

Jareth frowned again. Wasn't the problem obvious?

Somehow, breakfast had turned into a council meeting and so Jareth was surprised when they were actually interrupted by a servant.

"Your Majesty," the man bowed, before turning to Fenrook, "there's a problem in the Labyrinth that requires your attention sir," he continued.

Jareth stood up as well, having finished breakfast some time ago. He was meant to be taking a holiday, not solving the problems of his nation.

As soon as Jareth stood, his companions also rose, out of respect. Jareth nodded at them and left the dining room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Jareth was listening semi-politely as Ragnok gave a personal tour around an Egyptian excavation.

"The site was cursed when we found it, to deter grave robbers no doubt, rather unfortunately our initial team fell prey to a rather complicated curse and are still in a coma."

"It sounds like a dangerous occupation," Jareth murmured, staring at the faded murals on the wall.

"Indeed Sire, however the career benefits for our curse breakers and explorers make the job extremely attractive. We have a good mix of both goblins and wizards, which seems to work well; we even have a couple of centaurs on the payroll!"

"We had another goblin team cleanse the site and it's perfectly safe here now, but we're unfortunately still trying to cure the original explorers." Ragnok said, walking through the archway back to the camp.

Jareth followed slowly.

"...wouldn't accept money, instead she wanted needed a copy of Misher's Necromancy, a rather dangerous dark book. Unfortunately the owner of the only copy of the book we've come across wants a specific potion made up in return for the book, which in turn means, we've had to go to the expense of hiring a professional potions Master." Ragnok shook his head, "the whole things becoming extremely expensive!"

"You know," Jareth interrupted, "I sometimes think I'm the only person in my entire kingdom with any common sense what-so-ever."

Ragnok paused curiously, "Sire?"

Jareth sighed, "All this running around hunting down this book and now dashing about getting potions ingredients. I'll bet it never occurred to any of you to simply check in the library."

Ragnok paused his step, "the library?"

"We've got at least 3 copies of that book on the shelves in the castle," Jareth answered.

There was silence as everyone in the vicinity stared at him.

"3 copies?" Ragnok repeated slightly dazed.

"I keep getting it as a gift," Jareth confirmed, "though I've never quite figured out why so many people think I'm interested in raising the dead or maiming peoples souls."

"So you're telling me that you have 3 copies of Mishers Necromancy in the castle?" Ragnok visibly pulled himself together, "I suggest you stand your men down commander, he told the mission leader "and send someone to the castle."

"Yes Sir" the small goblin bowed low to his King before leaving.

There was a pause as everyone readjusted their thinking and tried not to look as stupid as they felt.

Jareth smirked at them.

"The library even has a catalogue you know," he looked at Ragnok, "for future reference."

Ragnok paused, it had not once in his career ever occurred to him to look in the castles library. He wasn't even sure he knew where it was.

"My personal collection is held elsewhere of course, but the books in the main library belong to the goblin nation and are rather extensive in certain areas," Jareth continued, "the place used to be crawling with scholars, though it's not much used these days. People seem to prefer dashing about heroically to looking something up."

Jareth yawned. He was alone in his chamber now and the bed looked very inviting, the mornings tour having tired him rather more than he liked to admit. Having a holiday was turning out to be a tremendously good idea and he was fully intending to spent the rest of the afternoon with a good book.

He'd been putting Donald to the back of his mind till now, though it needed thinking about at some point. Jareth hadn't seen his brother in years, had truthfully given him even less thought than he'd given the goblins. Perhaps if he'd put forth any effort into building a relationship with his brother this wouldn't have happened.

There was a soft knock on the door and a servant entered the room quietly, moving to light the fire and warm the room from the afternoon's late chill. Jareth watched uninterestedly, sprawled on a soft couch.

"If it pleases Your Highness, dinner will be served at 8," the little goblin announced quietly, unwilling to disturb the Kings quiet contemplation.

Jareth lifted his head, "that's fine."

He stared at the flames, already feeling the warmth.

He woke to another soft voice, a different goblin this time. It was dark now, the only light from the dying fire in the grate.

"What time is it?" he muttered, still half asleep.

"8 Sire, dinner awaits your convenience,"

Jareth sat up slowly, with a flick of his wrist the room filled with light. He yawned.

"I'll be down shortly,"

"Yes Sire. Would you like any assistance?"

Jareth scowled slightly, they'd been trying to foist a dresser on him for days. He was more than capable of seeing to his own wardrobe.

"I'm fine" he answered tiredly.

The servant nodded and left him to it.

His dressing room was bare of gloves. It was a less than subtle hint. Jareth was used to gloves, they hid the scars, and to put them on display would simply show his vulnerability to the world. He paused uncertain. They would, he knew, bring him some at once should he request it, but it was only an informal dinner with some of his own council and they'd already seen them once.

Jareth appeared at close to 9, in no particular hurry. It was a King's privilege to be late and he gave no thought at all to the men awaiting his convenience.

They rose upon his entry, Fenrook and Hugh smiled slightly to see that their gentle hint had been successful. Unknown to Jareth, Doctor Davidson had assigned a team of doctors to investigate ways to minimise the scarring. The trouble was that dandelion was a key ingredient for most healing potions of this type and since an allergy to dandelion was rare there was little research in ways to substitute it.

In the meantime, it had been decided that the King should be gently encouraged to stop hiding.

They still didn't really understand what had happened to Jareth, why he bore such scars without their knowledge. Jareth had opened up slightly after the death of the assassin, admitted it was the same man who gave him the original scars. They had no idea who the man was, or why he had been allowed to get away with torturing their King as he had obviously done.

Jareth gazed across the room, watching the rain lashing down outside the windows. It was the perfect evening to be indoors he thought with a smile, downing his wine. The glass was promptly refilled by a footman when he placed it back on the table. He sat back in his chair and looked contentedly around the room, he was well fed and feeling rather satisfied. Guards were at the door, more of Hugh's mercenaries by the look of them and most of his council seemed to be present, though he was slightly unsure why, they'd never shown much interest in him when he was in the Labyrinth yet now, suddenly, every meal seemed to be littered with high ranking goblins.

The conversation flowed around him, seemingly nobody minding his own quietness. He listened casually as Fenrook and Hugh argued about the destruction of a bridge in the Labyrinth, Hugh vehemently denying his soldiers to be at fault.

The bond between King and goblins was much stronger now, though he was a little unsure as to why. He'd stopped pushing it away, stopped ignoring it, but he hadn't yet picked up the nerve to embrace it. The goblins hadn't liked him any more than he had liked them.

They all noticed it immediately and everyone gazed curiously, cautious that they not ruin such a rare moment. Jareth was smiling. It was not that the King never smiled, for he smiled often, but never with such gentleness, for once the King actually looked happy.

Jareth's attention drew back to the table, looking confused at being stared at, "did I miss something?"

"Not at all Your Highness," Fenrook replied "Are you ready to retire Sire?"

Jareth glanced around, suddenly noticing that the table was empty of food, "My apologies," he answered, standing up in answer.

They rose with him and Ragnok led the way through to an evening room.

Jareth sprawled on the couch, the room was quiet now allowing him to listen to the rain lashing outside the window, and only Ragnok and Hugh remained, the others having headed back to the Labyrinth. It was nice, for once, not to be the one dashing off to go handle yet another emergency. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to sprawl lazily, with absolutely no intention of doing even the slightest bit of work.

It was peaceful.

Hugh and Ragnok were playing cards at the table and Jareth wandered over to watch. Casually dropping himself onto an empty chair. They nodded at him and Ragnok paused in his dealing,

"Would you like to play Sire?"

Jareth paused, "aren't you in the middle of a game?"

"We're just playing for matchsticks," Hugh replied gathering them all up and splitting them 3 ways.

Ragnok re-dealt the cards while explaining the rules.

"I think I've played it before," Jareth said uncertainly. "We used to play a fair bit of cards and this was the only game we could ever agree on and that didn't end in arguments."

"It was the same with my family growing up," Ragnok grinned "we're all pretty competitive, when we played as kids, there was always at least one argument."

Jareth actually laughed aloud with genuine amusement, "I was talking about playing with the council," he grinned fondly, "my Weapons Master, Ren, had the huge advantage in that most of us, me in particular, couldn't even get away with bluffing to him, never mind any game involving outright lying. Gringott was an expert at probabilities and even worse he used to count cards, he claimed it was in self defence, what with Ren reading every ones minds. They wouldn't talk to each other for a week after the first time we tried poker! This was the only game that didn't end up with one of them always winning."

Hugh smiled, very few goblins would play him at poker either. It would be very interesting to play against Jareth at some point; it would be an extremely good exercise in learning how to read the King.

Jareth glared at him knowingly, "don't even think about it. I'm not playing poker with you."

Ragnok snorted, "very wise Sire."

Jareth smiled back, discarding one of his cards. He won the first round, but he suspected they'd gone easy to suss out his strategy.

It was late when they finished, Jareth had been yawning for the past half an hour, but made no move to go to bed. It had been a fair few years since he had last just had fun with somebody.

Hugh went thoughtfully to his bedchamber; he'd never seen that side of the king before. He'd watched occasionally, from a back corner, as Jareth absconded to a local tavern and got worryingly drunk. The goblins accepted him among them easily, but he'd been more bent on causing chaos than even learning the names of his evening's companions.

He'd get even more drunk when he went to the Above, often vanishing with a completely unsuitable mortal at some point. These trips were a huge headache for Hugh who had to guard both his King's privacy and safety, all without letting the King suspect his presence.


	8. Chapter 8

_Time to bring some actual crossover in the story methinks_

* * *

The castle had stood strong for 9 centuries, but now finally, the castle's magic was failing and Hogwart's wards were falling.

Headmaster Dumbledore had even had to get Auror's in towards the end of the last term, just to make sure students were protected. All advanced practical classes had been cancelled and all practical potions lessons. Any accident and the children could be seriously hurt by the fallout.

Towards the very end of term the headmaster had even taken the unusual step of confiscating all wands outside of lessons, to the student's horror. The astronomy tower had had to be closed off entirely. And with the falling of the wards, Hogwart's poor repair became more and more obvious. Unnoticed, Hogwarts had been using its magic to prop up walls that had physically crumbled with time. These were now falling back into their true state.

The mundane repairs were all underway, had been so now for almost a year. Even if the Heart stone could be repaired it had been decided that the castle walls should be made safe. Then after months of searching, the Headmaster had discovered a Goblins promise of assistance, supposedly given many years ago to the founders. He'd invoked the incantation and eventually, convinced the goblin that appeared to help them.

But only on goblin terms, which had meant waiting till the end of summer, almost an entire school year away. So Hogwart students had spent almost a year unable to practice much of their magic without supervision and having to live alongside builders repairing everything around them. It was very, very important no one piss off the goblin delegation. The headmaster had spent the entire week, bribing, begging and blackmailing his staff not to ruin their only affordable option.

_Gringott's Headquarters_

Jareth sauntered to the balcony, having retired early. He needed a break, overwhelmed with the care and attention he was receiving from the goblins after years of being alone and solitary.

He looked outside thoughtfully, it was a lovely night. He opened the latch, he'd be back before they even noticed, he figured guiltily. An owl flew, not entirely unnoticed, from the British Gringott branch.

Eventually, many hours later he was staggering drunkenly down the street, his companion Lisa? or Eliza, suddenly slid sideways and promptly threw up. He tried to step backwards and promptly fell over. They'd been walking awhile now, Jareth having completely forgotten where it was he was staying or what direction he had originally come from. He stood up, ignoring the girl who was now lying on the pavement, possibly unconscious. Definitely time he got back. He looked around thoughtfully, beginning to suspect he'd walked into a rather dangerous area of the city.

A man came walking down the street, pausing as he was level with Jareth, "hand over your money and no one gets hurt," he said softly.

Jareth blinked, "wha'?"

Suddenly the man was crumpled on the floor. Jareth stared bemused as blood seeped all over the pavement. He turned slightly and suddenly there was another man in front of him, a goblin who drew him away gently. He leaned with some relief against the warm body, only just noticing how cold it had gotten.

Hugh pointed at the body to someone while pulling Jareth further away. A car pulled up and Jareth was quickly settled inside. The car pulled away quietly and a single goblin picked up the body, he leered at the girl, but made no move towards her, wouldn't touch what the king had briefly claimed. He left quickly, leaving her lying alone, though it was now below freezing and this was a dangerous neighbourhood.

Jareth shivered as his body thawed slightly. Hugh, a silent presence beside him, handed him a drink. He drank it with some relief and the nauseous feeling faded slightly. He leaned his head back on the seat and it wasn't long before the car pulled over and the door was opened. Jareth went where he was led and fell on the bed with relief. He pulled off one shoe before giving up and just lying haphazardly across the bed.

Hugh sighed, but removed the rest of Jareth's garments gently,before pulling the sheet over him and leaving.

_The next morning_

Jareth sat at his most haughty and sneered disdainfully, Sir Hugh didn't blink and, more importantly, didn't back down even slightly. Jareth fondly remembered the way he could previously get Hugh to retreat with a single raise of an eyebrow.

This time, Hugh continued to gaze enquiringly, not even slightly put off by the scowl.

,Jareth smothered a grin suddenly, "I liked you better when you cowered."

Hugh smiled slightly; he couldn't imagine how he had previously been even slightly intimidated.

Hugh took a seat, backed off slightly from demanding answers. As a tactic it worked surprisingly well and as Jareth noticeably relaxed, he made a mental note to use it in future.

Jareth sighed, "It was... I just... It was just too much!" he finally answered, waving an arm.

Hugh looked confused, "Your vacation?"

"No. I just..." Jareth trailed off.

"You just what Sire?" Hugh prompted as Jareth lapsed into silence.

Jareth tapped his fingers nervously on the table, "Everything. Everyone is just so..."

Hugh frowned, beginning to see the problem, "you're scared."

"I'm not scared," Jareth denied scowling.

Hugh smiled.

"We never meant you to think we don't care," he said carefully, "you just never seemed to want or need anything from us."

Jareth stared at the table, "but now, suddenly... I don't know how to deal with it, to trust it, what happens when I go back to the Labyrinth and everything goes back to normal?"

Hugh smiled gently, "nothing is going to go back to normal Sire. Surely you realise this?"

Jareth frowned uncertainly.

"Sire, everything has changed. Haven't you realised yet? We love you, we always loved you, even when you were terrifying, but now, now we really see you. We aren't going to allow anything to hurt you."

Jareth shook his head, "for years, I thought... Donald, he... but then... It was such a relief, when he admitted it had been him all along, but it shouldn't have been, he's my brother. I should have cared more. He was my brother, but he was never an important part of my life. I gave him money, I pitied him because I had everything and he had nothing, but that was it.

This time it was Hugh that sighed, "That's the point Sire. He wasn't a goblin. He wasn't one of us. You truly thought a goblin would ever hurt you? That a goblin would ever deliberately cause you pain?"

Jareth grimaced, "I could feel them," he replied. "Goblins all around me and nobody helped, nobody came. I was alone for weeks and weeks and every single day I trusted you, waited for you, until one day. One day I finally gave up."

He swallowed, "you didn't come!"

That was the truth of it all, was the reason for the years of distance. Jareth had been left alone and for a goblin King this was the most torturous thing by far. A goblin King was designed and bred to be King and nothing in his ancestry would have prepared him to be without his people. The goblin King wouldn't in normal times ever be left alone.

Hugh stared unsure what to say.

They finished breakfast silently, before Jareth retired to a morning room alone. His diary appeared suddenly on the table next to his chair and he picked it up thoughtfully, he hadn't been aware he had any upcoming appointments.

He grimaced when he realised. It was that Hogwart's thing. He hadn't originally been going to mention it to his council, thinking it simpler and easier to go by himself. He strongly suspected that these days the council wouldn't be too thrilled with his original plans. Even worse than that, he found himself hesitant to inform them what he'd been intending, knowing the quiet disapproval he was going to get and it was this that made him sit thoughtfully.

Events were all moving a little fast, he'd actually found himself apologising for last night's actions after Hugh's gentle scolding, he hadn't apologised to anyone in centuries and now here he was, afraid of their disapproval once more.

Jareth had been good friends the Hogwart founders, particularily Salazar and Rowena and had made a promise to keep an eye on the Heart stone for them, after they were gone. Hogwart's defences relied on it heavily and in fact Jareth had, in part, actually created it for them, with help from his Labyrinth. Jareth though initially disinclined to be so summarily summoned by the Headmaster, had finally been persuaded to come back during the summer and do what he could.

Headmaster Dumbledore had initially wanted his immediate attention which had offended the Goblin King in the extreme; he had almost walked out on the man. However he'd allowed himself to be persuaded to help, though these days he wasn't much of a fan of the wizarding world he had always had a soft spot for children. Now he rather wished he'd allowed himself to be persuaded and had got it over and done with.

_Hogwart's 3 days later_

"Would Sir's like a drink?" a creature asked grovelingly, appearing in the room with a small pop.

Jareth stared at the little creature, he didn't recognise the species at all.

"What are you?" Jareth asked bemused.

The creature was clearly not a goblin, he'd have known immediately if it had been, yet something still felt familiar. It almost felt like a lesser version of the Goblin bond, which didn't make any sense. Though perhaps the creature was a half breed?

"Binky's a house elf Sir. Master Dumbledore sent me to serve the goblin delegates needs."

The creature blinked, then gave a second, puzzled, glance at the blond man lounging at the table and took a step forward, staring hard. The other goblin delegates had tensed at his arrival and as soon as he took a step forward, the scariest goblin he had ever seen appeared from behind the blond and growled at him.

"A house elf? You don't look like an elf," Jareth answered, ignoring his over protective guards. As far as Jareth was aware, elves were taller and better looking.

"House elves serve the wizards," the creature replied, still staring intently.

"You're slaves?" Jareth questioned, looking utterly appalled.

"We serve willingly, Binky loves Hogwarts," Binky replied without taking his eyes off the blond.

Jareth was beginning to get uncomfortable with the staring, he was used to it from his goblins, but this was different. The blood link with his subjects meant he couldn't ever hide from goblin eyes, watching and protecting him, he wasn't sure what this gaze meant.

Professor Flitwick knocked on the door nervously. Albus had persuaded him, against his better wishes, to be the formal liaison between the touchy goblins and wizards. He strongly suspected it had come down to Filius or Snape, so he wasn't especially honoured by the request, it would be a cold day in hell before anyone could say his manners were anything like Severus' and they really needed these people.

Filius entered the room, gazing with curiosity at members of the delegation. Several Hobgoblins were present, which was interesting and he recognised one goblin as an elder on the Gringott board of executives. As usual no 2 goblins were alike and Filius wondered once more what his own absent father had looked like. The three hobgoblins straightened at his entry and gazed at him piercingly. He gulped, he recognised the Weapons Master when he saw him, the most feared goblin of all and head of an army of Hobgoblin mercenaries. He felt a little faint; Albus had neglected to mention that Sir Hugh would be in attendance.

"Pardon the intrusion, I'm professor Flitwick. The headmaster has asked that I show you to the dining hall." He aired the speech towards the weapons Master, unsure if he was higher ranking than the Gringott goblin, but deciding to give it the benefit of the doubt. Mainly on account of the numerous weapons he appeared to be carrying.

Oddly, Sir Hugh turned to a blond man who was standing by the window. Filius didn't recognise him, but then his knowledge of goblins was rather limited.


	9. Chapter 9

_I was originally just going to have this take place before the war, but I had a few problems plot-wise with this idea. So I'm going to twist things a little so it's kind of an AU universe I guess, where Dumbledore survived the war (maybe someone went back in time later and saved him or something) and so did Snape who I like to think probably survived the snake bite anyway. Both of whom went back to their old jobs, because I like Dumbledore as headmaster and you can't have Dumbledore without Snape. _

_Snape, I see as being happier, but still the same person, who still isn't keen on Harry, but has bent enough to tolerate and just generally ignore him, I'm going to assume he's gone back because of his love of potions and his old position allowed him more time to research, so he's more than happy for a demotion. He's probably an extremely influential academic in certain circles. _

_Ron, Hermione, Harry and even Draco have gone back to finish their last year of school. _

_I wasn't going to do it like this, but then my list of new characters was growing extensive and I figure if I'm going to have a crossover there's no point in having to create new characters, that no one would like and would no doubt accidently turn into Mary-Sue's. I have more than enough new characters from the Labyrinth side already._

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_Egypt_

"My god, it's beautiful," murmured Griphook admiringly. Bill Weasley nodded his head in agreement. The group stared at the unearthed treasure. They'd worked years for this moment, obsessively hunted down every lead, every trail. And here it was.

Bill had come back to Gringotts after the war, had once again buried himself in this search, as he had when he was a youth, in order to forget, to hide from the death of his brother and the meltdown of the rest of his family. This was his reward. It was almost worth it.

"You know, such exquisite metalworking should be seen, not buried in a vault." Griphook added thoughtfully, with a sideways glance at Gingley.

"Seen?" queried Gingley, though a faint gleam started to show in his eye. "You mean the Faire?"

"I mean the Faire," confirmed Griphook dreamily.

"Faire?" Bill asked

"The Labyrinth faire Mr Weasley, the greatest faire of all... the goblin Faire," Gingley smiled.

The Goblin Faire attracted beings from both Above and Below. Taking place once every 5 years, it was the biggest event of that year. Only a Labyrinth citizen or one with with an ancestry including goblin blood was allowed entry without an invitation, thought the rules were greatly relaxed for any craftsmen. Outsiders could only dream of the treasures to be found at the faire, only the most rich or powerful could barter for an invite. Even then some of the most surprising of people could be left without entrance.

There was however an exception to these stringent rules. For though the Faire was held by the goblins, there were always as many dwarf craftsmen with things to display, and so over the years any native of the dwarf kingdom was also unofficially invited and would be allowed entrance without a ticket. Particularly any dwarf with high enough rank to murmur about setting up their own Dwarf Faire in competition.

The Faire was traditionally the first display of a craftsman's triumph, often the culmination of a full 5 years work. Those who attended the faire were sure to have the best, most exquisite jewellery or weaponry and to be the envy of all their peers. For few dwarf or goblin craftsmen would dream of completing a masterpiece and then not displaying it at the faire, if only for the admiration or jealousy of their peers.

It was also cleverly designed to allow even the commonest Labyrinth inhabitants to make some money, not only through food, drink and hospitality, but also through the selling of their spare ticket. For all the natives were allowed to use one extra invite, the buying and selling of which was big business.

The most important guests were those who held a royal invite, from the goblin king himself, and who stayed in the royal castle. Though these were also the rarest, for Jareth was not one to pander to the whims of the rich or the powerful. Politically, only the neighbouring kingdoms whose borders touched those of the labyrinth, or the highest ranking dwarf nobles were sent an invitation from Jareth and fewer still were invited for any other reason. The goblin king was well known for his dislike of social obligations.

"The Faire is in a month, there's no time. The security alone would be horrendous," Gingley tried.

Bill looked puzzled, "Where is this faire?"

Griphooks dreams turned out to be infectious and drew in most of the camp. Not only was it a chance for Gringott's to shine, but it was a chance for them to see the Faire for themselves. Gringott's operated a lottery, those lucky enough to win, got a week off to enjoy the faire. None in the camp had been lucky this time and it would be another 5 years before they got another chance.

Mr Weasley was another matter; invitations to the faire at this late stage were like gold dust, long since snatched up and horded carefully. Though even Gingley did not advocate leaving the man behind, to have a stand at the faire with contents such as this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and Bill deserved it as much as they. Their only option was a direct appeal to the head of Gringott's, to Ragnok himself. Not an option undertaken lightly.

Ragnok, once he'd seen the treasures for himself, proved easier to persuade than anticipated and even allowed Bill a few spares for his family. So Bill decided to take his brother George, in yet another attempt to draw him back into the world, and Percy.

_Hogwart's_

The teachers were all present in the dining room by the time the delegation arrived. Dumbledore had spent the extra time threatening Severus with retribution if he ruined this for them. Dumbledore groaned as he recognised the obnoxious goblin from the first visit. He smiled slightly when he recognised Sir Hugh, the famed Weapons Master. He'd had some contact with the goblin during the war, Sir Hugh had been one of the main reasons they had won the war with so few casualties. Goblin mercenaries were generally neutral in wars, simply working for the highest bidder.

Voldemort had made much use of the mercenaries over the years, many Hobgoblins were inclined towards dark magic and hated wizards, so were more than keen to fight alongside the vampires and werewolves. However, upon an attack on the British Gringott's bank, Sir Hugh had withdrawn all goblin troops from Voldemort claiming breach of contract.

The ministry, or what was left of it, had eventually succeeded in persuading an obviously angry goblin, to allow them to hire the mercenaries. Under the sworn oath of the minister that they would pay for their services once the war was over. It was unusual that goblin mercenaries would work for credit, since had the ministry fallen in the war, the loan would never be paid. But Sir Hugh, unlike some of his troops, was not a fan of Voldemort, Severus had confided that he'd been gravely insulted at a formal dinner once, though had refused to go into more detail.

"Sir Hugh, I had no idea you would be present. It's good to see you again old friend." Dumbledore twinkled. With Sir Hugh around, surely the goblins would do what was needed.

Sir Hugh smiled and nodded acknowledgment "Albus," he murmured. He liked the old man.

"Might I present His Majesty, King Jareth of the goblins. Your Highness, this is Headmaster Dumbledore."

"We've met," Jareth murmured, inclining his head politely.

Everybody froze, "King?" Dumbledore questioned getting a rather sinking feeling, he rather suspected that original meeting was going to come back to haunt him.

With all the introductions over, they sat down to the feast uneasily.

"How did you meet Albus?" Sir Hugh asked quietly as they started the meal.

Jareth smiled guiltily, "We met to discuss the wards," he answered evasively. Dumbledore, on Sir Hugh's other side turned.

"I must apologise for our original meeting Your Highness. I was unaware that I was speaking to goblin royalty. I'm afraid the old document wasn't very clear on who exactly had originally made the Heart Stone, or if anyone would still be around to fulfil the summons. May I ask how exactly the goblins came to make such a promise?"

Sir Hugh raised an eyebrow and Jareth ducked his head, quickly busying himself with buttering some bread. Sir Hugh let it lie for now, though both men knew the matter wasn't ended. Sir Hugh was in charge of the King's protection, he couldn't do his job if Jareth hid little details like this from him.

"I was very good friends with one of the founders, a man called Salazer Slytherin." He answered slowly; well aware he had the attention of the entire table now. "He came to me for help, wanted to build a new type of school, one open to all magical creatures, including goblins, he wanted to promote unity in the Above magical community. I agreed to help, it sounded like an interesting experiment. So my goblins got to work building the castle on agreement that at least 30% intake per year were of goblin ancestry."

Jareth put his fork down with a sigh and took a drink from his wine glass. He nearly choked, but managed to swallow the repulsive drink down. He put the glass down firmly, still thirsty, but unwilling to drink the awful concoction. Sir Hugh spotted the grimace and tried his own drink, it was medium quality wine, not the worst he'd ever had by far, but not of the quality that should ever be served to his King. He made a mental note to bring in some goblin provisions.

The rest of the table were staring absorbed at Jareth, waiting for more.

"So what happened?" Dumbledore asked.

Jareth looked surprised, "It's your school. Don't you already know its history?"

"I'd been under the impression Salazer was against even muggleborn students being admitted," Dumbledore answered slowly.

"Well he was, he hated muggleborns, said it would only take one family telling the authorities about the school and every student would have been in danger. Godric though, wanted a school run by wizards for wizards, all wizards, regardless of background. Salazer wanted a school to foster relations between different species, but excluding anyone not of magical ancestry.

They both got their way to start with, Salazer's house admitted the centaurs, goblins, anyone who already lived in, and understood, the magical world and Godric's house admitted humans with magic regardless of background. Rowena commanded that she would accept any student, with magic; smart enough to pass an entrance exam and Helga refused to turn away anyone at all, as long as they wanted to learn. The school houses quickly turned into political statements of course, especially for the pureblood wizards who got a choice of all 4 houses depending on desire."

Jareth stopped, everyone, even his goblin entourage seemed to be listening intently. He looked around him, surely this was basic knowledge. He looked at his wine glass, thirsty from all the talking, and sighed. Decided he'd give it another try, so he lifted it to his lips.

Sir Hugh frowned, unwilling to have his King be forced to drink substandard wine, but unable to politely send it back. Had they been in a goblin residence he would have had no compunction in showing his displeasure.


	10. Chapter 10

_Saeth Ceirwyn -you're completely right, i thought the same thing about how i'd done the location switches, i just ignored my own instinct. So i've done a quick fix and put the Hogwart scenes together._

**Chapter 10**

_Hogwart's_

Jareth glanced around the office with interest, wondering how the hell the wizards got the paintings to move like that, and why they would want to. Jareth couldn't imagine anything worse than having your predecessors staring down at you and giving advice.

He'd thought his goblins bad in the gossip department, but the poor headmaster must have it much worse, since the paintings seemed not only able to gossip with their neighbours but also move frames at will, covering, Jareth suspected, the entire castle and possibly even further afield than that if the magic was strong enough.

He shuddered at the thought of living in a castle covered with living paintings of ancient Goblin Kings. Goblin King's had tended in the past to be rather warlike, having more in common with his Weapons Master than Jareth himself and Jareth had grown up on stories of their achievements. He was completely certain that he never wanted to meet his ancestors, even as paintings.

He wondered how Dumbledore could possibly get any work done, with all those eyes staring and judging him.

"Well?" Severus demanded impatiently.

Jareth narrowed his eyes at the demand, turning to stare the rude man down.

Snape stared back and the two proceeded glower at each other.

The headmaster and Hugh glanced at each other, both with an identical, longsuffering look.

Dumbledore then affected the least convincing stumble ever and kicked Severus in the shin, "I'm sorry Severus, was that your foot?"

Severus turned from Jareth, obviously understanding the less than subtle threat inherent in Dumbledore's manner.

Jareth rolled the Heart Stone around his hand and decided to call it a win on his side. He pushed the stone with his magic slightly and the orb, recognising its maker opened its secrets to him. The castle stirred at the intrusion, but ultimately also submitted to the will of its maker and sent back friendly, questioning, tendrils of magic.

Jareth was almost overwhelmed. Hogwarts was a castle fused with generations of magic; self aware to certain extent, much like his own Labyrinth and had been lonely for a long time now. In the old days, the castle bonded with the headmaster, but those days were gone and Hogwarts could only influence events very subtly these days.

He sighed, beginning to see exactly how much work he had just let himself in for. His head was throbbing already. He let the magic dissipate around him slowly and opened his eyes.

"Well?" asked Dumbledore intently.

"Not now," Jareth sighed, "I have a headache." He moved towards the door, unsurprised when Sir Hugh appeared at his side.

Sir Hugh opened the door and glared a warning as Albus started to speak. He gently took Jareth's arm as they descended the stairs. Jareth made no comment and for once took the support he was offered. By the time they reached his allocated quarters, Sir Hugh had pulled Jareths arm over his shoulder and had one arm round Jareth's waist. Jareth was fading fast.

Jareth rested his head on Hugh's shoulder, wanting nothing more than to lie down in a dark room. His head ached from the castles force and his magic was drained, pulled into Hogwarts as the castle fought for its survival. Jareth hadn't expected the desperation, hadn't realised how far the wards had fallen or that the castle would see him as a saviour and cling so tightly.

Jareth slept through most of the next day, only awaking for dinner. He was still drained and was going to need at least a couple of days rest before he could start to help the castle. He could only hope the castle would be able to hold on. Personally he wasn't sure it could, or would, especially now that it had hope of a saviour.

"Looks like the Boy Who Lived is receiving more fan mail," Snape mocked, as Harry's dinner was almost entirely covered by mail and owls.

Jareth looked up from his dinner, "the boy who lived? That wouldn't seem to be a particularly special achievement, that he should be given a title for it?"

"That's Harry Potter! Defeated Lord Voldemort as a babe and then again last year! Hero of the Wizarding World," Hagrid interjected.

Jareth looked unimpressed and Snape, suddenly suspecting an ally, looked over and rolled his eyes. Jareth sniggered and Snape smirked back, suddenly willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt.

Snape struck up a conversation about wines, gently testing the waters of a possible friendship and to his surprise Jareth actually responded. Severus was rather used to other people hating him. Which he was actually perfectly fine with, but on the few occasions he had actually attempted friendship with new people, his reputation had usually already preceded him and they were either already terrified of him, or so keen to prove they weren't, that they would verbally attack him first. It was extremely novel to be able to truly start fresh with someone.

3 hours later and both men were pleasantly drunk. Snape had been persuaded to break open some bottles of his homemade wine after the two men had happily complained about the swill served at the table, regardless of Dumbledore's presence. It had all been downhill from there.

They proceeded spend their entire evening complaining to each other, though ground rules, while unspoken, were understood and adhered too. Jareth would make no comments about Dumbledore, or Minerva, though Snape was free to do so. While Snape would make no comments about the goblins, though Jareth was free to do so. They both enjoyed themselves thoroughly, more than happy to sympathise with the other over how terrible they had it.

_The Labyrinth_

Didymus was sat in a meeting and thinking longingly of the old days, to his days living in the swamp acting as the executor of justice to its inhabitants. The lack of actual people in the swamp had meant his days were not exactly full, despite his enthusiasm to help anyone and everyone.

Those days were gone now and these days he spent his time actually hiding from the endless array of people that wanted him to intercede and solve their problems. Instead of Didymus achieving the honour and glory of his ancestors, being a Knight of the Labyrinth was turning out to be a completely thankless task and Didymus' inbuilt good nature was quickly turning into bitter sarcasm, a type of self-defence learnt from hanging out with his friend Hoggle.

Not a single one of the little bastards residing in the Labyrinth would accept any of Didymus' decisions. He was starting to suspect he could tell them the sky was blue and they would still argue the point. He had bought himself a little calendar that he kept now in his quarters and every day he crossed another day off, with thick red marker, as he counted down to Jareth's return. At which point he fully intended to have a mental breakdown and a nice long spell in a quiet little hospital somewhere.

Unfortunately, between that point and now was the goblin Faire, only a few weeks away now and Didymus had been volunteered by someone, or rather drafted, to be part of the organising committee. He'd initially thought it would be a nice break from acting as a justice of the peace. It wasn't.

He looked up at the sudden silence, accidentally catching Fenrook's eye.

"Excellent, Sir Didymus it is then." Fenrook stated calmly.

Didymus looked round wildly, all the others appeared to be staring at the carpet and pretending to be invisible. He gulped.

Fenrook moved on quickly, with absolutely no sympathy for Didymus' panicked look. He ended the meeting quickly once he'd finished issuing his orders, quickly escaping the numerous goblins stood outside the doors wanting his attention. He'd gotten very good at escaping people since Jareth had gone, all the council had.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Jareth tapped his fingers on the chair, having finally finished examining the stone, "You're going to need a new heart stone," he finally stated.

Dumbledore looked up and frowned, "where would we get one?"

Jareth frowned, "That isn't the problem, I've informed the Labyrinth to begin making a new one, but it's going to take several weeks."

Dumbledore brightened, "well that's excellent news. We can wait a few weeks."

Jareth shook his head, "I'm rather afraid you can't headmaster, things have deteriorated rather further than I expected. Your castle is dying."

Dumbledore paused, "dying?"

The portraits started whispering together urgently.

"You have a couple of days at most," Jareth sighed, "I'm afraid without a bond, there's very little you can do."

"Bond?"

Jareth glanced up at the portraits surrounding them, "perhaps this is something you should discuss with your predecessors."

He stood up, "I'll leave you to talk it through, though I'll need a decision quickly. If you decide to go through with it I'll need to have the goblins bring a few items to properly set up the ritual, I will of course ask Ragnok to send you an estimate of the cost."

Jareth paused, "Should you decide to go through with it I'm rather afraid you will be putting your own life at risk and frankly I'm doubtful even a powerful human such as yourself would have enough power to keep both of you alive till there is a new heart stone in place. I'm rather afraid you may be out of options headmaster."

He nodded at the headmaster, who was looking pale, before heading down the stairs, his guard a silent presence behind him.

He paused when he reached the bottom of the stairs and turned, "Would Severus be in his quarters?"

The goblin frowned, "One moment Sire," he backed up a step and spoke softly into his ear piece.

"I believe he's teaching a class at the moment Sire"

Jareth frowned, "well I suppose I'll go to my quarters then."

He sighed, Sir Hugh had been called away to solve a crisis and Fenrook and Ragnok were both busy somewhere. Jareth was alone again.

Jareth was bored, walking aimlessly round his quarters distractedly, wondered what he should do with himself for the afternoon. He opened his window; it would be a lovely day for a fly. He turned slightly and watching the entrance of an owl that proceeded to land on his shoulder, "what do we have here then?"

He opened the letter as the owl flew away, obviously not expecting a reply, and groaned heavily. Jareth had spent many years avoiding his family and now here they were suddenly all popping up at once. He glanced around the room, wondered if he should tell someone. But with the Faire coming up and everyone so busy, would they really need to know about a note from his aunt?

And so, late that evening, a small white owl flew, entirely unnoticed, from Hogwart's.

"Hello Aunt Lily," Jareth landed and proceeded to bow politely to the old lady.

She'd tried her best, but even with dark magic there was no longer any hiding of the shades of grey or the wrinkles that marked Lily as a very old lady.

"Hello Jareth," she looked around him and raised an eyebrow; "you've come alone?"

Jareth frowned, "not alone aunt, but not with company either."

She nodded, assuming his guards were remaining discrete.

They talked through to the early hours, Jareth at first hesitant but gradually becoming more open as he finally discussed his brother's actions with someone. Jareth was offered a bed as the evening grew late; he was by this point far too drunk to fly back to Hogwart's.

He'd wanted to be independent and yet somehow as the night went on, that had just turned into lonely. He didn't sleep well, though he blamed it on the cheap mattress he was subjected too.

Jareth awoke cold, alone and uneasy. He wasn't even that keen on his aunt, wasn't even sure why he had agreed to come, or stay here. It all boiled down to Donald, Jareth didn't want to fail again, didn't want to be hated by any more of his family, for he'd give them as much thought over the years as he'd given Donald.

Jareth flew off after breakfast, but only after promising a ticket to the upcoming Faire.

He arrived back at Hogwart's just before lunch and he landed in his quarters with relief. He showered and changed before leaving his quarters, he frowned when he eventually left, for there were no goblins outside. He cursed softly, it becoming clear that his little excursion had been noticed after all.

He didn't have to walk far before bumping into a goblin, which widened his eyes at the sight of him, frantically speaking into his ear piece.

As suspected he got barely a few more feet before Hugh made his appearance and he sighed inwardly.

"Is there a problem?" he tried innocently.

Hugh stared at him, "where have you been?"

Jareth shrugged, "I went out for a fly."

Hugh frowned, "all night?"

Jareth shrugged.

Hugh stared at him suspiciously.

"Why are you here? I thought you were needed in the Labyrinth?" Jareth questioned.

"Indeed Sire. I must, in fact, get back to it," Hugh confirmed, before bowing slightly and leaving.

Jareth blinked at the abruptness, stifling the sudden pang of guilt.

There was a sudden scuffling sound behind him and he turned quickly, another of those house elves was staring at him. Everywhere he went they seemed to turn up.

"Can I help you?" he questioned.

The creature just flattened his ears and continued staring.

So Jareth sighed and decided to ignore him, though he turned back after a few paces, "am I too late to get lunch in the dining hall?"

The house elf nodded, "but Kreacher will bring you lunch in room."

Jareth turned back to his quarters, "very well then."

Lunch turned out to be a rather sizable spread and he had to order the elf to stop bringing him things at one point.

He spent most of his afternoon in the school library. Dumbledore, it seemed, had done his work for him and all the relevant texts pertaining to the stone had already been collected together and were presented upon his request. He sat at a quiet corner in the restricted section, ignoring the whispering and giggling from the studying children.

He knew what needed to be done in general terms, but he'd never been known for having the greatest memory around, and most of the ritual surrounding the stone was lost to him. He knew rather more about bonding to a magical construct, but much of the ingredients would be both rare and expensive.

He spent some of his time writing a note to Ragnok, requesting both the ingredients for the potion and an experienced spell caster. He could do it himself, but the ritual was extremely delicate and would be best left to a suitable professional. He made certain he mentioned that the itemized bill should be sent direct to Dumbledore, aware that otherwise his goblins would bear the cost themselves, though Jareth had only promised assistance with the stone itself.

Dumbledore didn't appear at the evening meal and it was left to Jareth to briefly inform the teachers about his conclusions regarding the heart stone.

"I'm rather afraid he has chosen to reenact the ancient bond, though this will only give the castle an extra week at most," Jareth said.

"I'm in the process of acquiring a heart stone, but it will take rather longer than that."

Snape frowned, "there's no possibility of getting a heart stone from somewhere else?"

Jareth frowned haughtily, "such crystals can only be found in the goblin heartlands, particularly of the quality needed here."

Snape rolled his eyes, unaccountably reminded of Lucius, "my mistake."

"What if there was more than one bond?" Filius interjected, listening intently.

"More than one?" Jareth questioned unsure

"What if two people were to bond with the castle, would that extend things?" the charms master leaned forward, "perhaps even several people could be included."

"That isn't how these bonds normally work," Jareth answered thoughtfully, "though it might be possible I suppose, if you knew what you were doing."

"Indeed Your Highness, but it happens to be an area I have some small knowledge in. Excuse me gentlemen, I need to go and find Albus."

"I'll come with you," Minerva put down her napkin, regardless that she had barely finished her starter.


End file.
